


Hymn:  A Psychopomp and Circumstance Story

by LoveThemFiercely



Series: Psychopomp and Circumstances [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: American Civil War, Cardinal (Star Wars) - Freeform, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hades - Freeform, Mythology - Freeform, Psychopomps, Sache' (Star Wars), Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThemFiercely/pseuds/LoveThemFiercely
Summary: Hades never leaves his kingdom.  This is known.  But sometimes, when the night is long and the losses are dear, his kingdom comes to Earth.





	Hymn:  A Psychopomp and Circumstance Story

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the Civil War in the United States. I have not named the battle; that is deliberate; nor which side is which. That's deliberate too. What's important is the hero, and that his way is made easier.

**1863**

Once in a great while, for a hero, for a slaughter, Hades would come himself. 

A slim figure picked its way delicately across an encampment to the hospital tent. Frost fired the ground where He walked. Over the next ridge, He could hear His nephew exhorting the soldiers to courage. Ares would be front and center, blood-red armor and all; though the troops would see something different, no doubt. His bellows were clear: “Fear not the foe! Fear not a glorious death for the cause!”

But they did fear. They always feared him. As if being sung on the shore of an underground lake, a song wavered, gaining and losing speed, distorted in the darkness:

“ _ I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circling camps/ _

_ They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps/ _

_ I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps/ _

_ His day is marching on… _ ”

In the tent before him, one of the nurses was singing. Ah, yes; one of Seph's girls. She didn't know that for one of His own, a hero who'd called on Him by name, Hades would grant him personal entrance. Few and far between, here and there, were those who still knew Him. There had been enough death here, today, to create a new door to His realm; to let Him walk this place and yet still be within His own kingdom.

The sound of cannon was a muffled *boom*, distant, painting the pre-dawn sky with flame, as Ares' voice doubled and overlaid the commander's:  **_“Charge!”_ ** Here, in the tent, a softer, tired voice lamented: "There's nothing more that can be done, I'm afraid, but to ease him to his reward. Half a regiment has him to thank for their lives." The awed praise was punctuated by the crisp snip of shears. Yes. They would be here, too.

And here he came, on the trembling wings of tear-filled song. She led him by the hand, this one; her intelligent, highly individual face sorrowing as she sang. Hades could hear the life the hero was leaving; brothers and sisters, and a mother anxiously awaiting news, in a tiny cabin nestled in a valley between green mountains. He wouldn't see the bluebells bloom there again; but in time, he would feel once more the loving arms of those who waited. Hades would make sure of it. 

Bluebells bloomed in the frosted, trampled grass as she sang him across the threshold. The soldier, the hero, smiled, thinking of home. Seph; forever working to ease the way. Hades, now appearing to him in the uniform of one of his own command, beckoned. "This way, son. You've done good work today. Now it's time to rest."

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet hopped into my head at 6am, along with a distorted phonograph version of The Battle Hymn of the Republic and the image of our Hades stepping between the fallen as frost forms under his feet. It was necessary to write it in order for further sleep to be possible, so here it is.


End file.
